


The Sweetest Apple (Is the Soonest Rotten)

by winterfell_in_ruins



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 09:58:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3323261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterfell_in_ruins/pseuds/winterfell_in_ruins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt: Robert finding out Lyanna never loved him in the Crypts of Winterfell.</p><p> </p><p>A young girl, thin with large grey eyes and dark hair stepped towards him. She looked like Lyanna, but there was something wrong with the face, like a warped reflection on the water. Something about the shape of the eyes was different, perhaps? And surely Lyanna hadn’t been that young? This girl couldn’t be much older than his children. Her voice too, was not quite right, a cheap mockery of the woman he loved.</p><p> </p><p>The title comes from an old Irish ballad "Love IS Pleasing". If you want to check it out, I'd recommend the Dubliner's version.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sweetest Apple (Is the Soonest Rotten)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Baba1994](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baba1994/gifts).



Robert had come down to the crypts to see the one woman he had ever loved. A depressing thought, but a true one, he thought as he made his way down the stairs. He made his way past the long line of rulers of Winterfell to the last grave. There she stood, though the statue did nothing to capture the woman’s beauty. As he stood in front of Lyanna’s statue, he felt the usual mix of longing and regret he always felt when thinking about her. 

He took a swig from his wineskin, trying to stave off the negative thoughts. The skin was almost empty, though if he was honest Robert had little recollection of drinking the rest of it. The crypts below Winterfell were dark and mysterious. The statues of the dead Starks, from the kings of winter to Brandon seemed to watch the king with their cold stone eyes. Despite himself, Robert was not comfortable here. There was sense that he should not be here, a sense caused by more than a belly full of wine. Here, it didn’t matter that he was the ruler of the Starks, what mattered that he was an imposter. 

“Your grace” 

A small, slightly mocking female voice sounded from the depths of the crypt.

“Who is there?” 

He would be ashamed to admit it, but there was a slight shake to his voice. Damn these Starks and their gloomy resting places. It was enough to make any man nervous.

“Don’t you remember me, Lord Baratheon?” There was a cruel-sounding laugh, as the voice appeared to be getting nearer.

“I am your king, woman. Show some respect.”

A laugh echoed through the crypts, seeming loud in the quiet.

“Ah yes, King Robert Baratheon. Who would have thought it?”

The voice was eerily familiar to Robert, like one he had heard a long time ago, or many times in a dream. It was high and clear, but the tone of it betrayed the speaker’s disdain for him.

“Who are you?”

“Why I’m your one true love, my king. Aren’t you glad to see me?”

A young girl, thin with large grey eyes and dark hair stepped towards him. She looked like Lyanna, but there was something wrong with the face, like a warped reflection on the water. Something about the shape of the eyes was different, perhaps? And surely Lyanna hadn’t been that young? This girl couldn’t be much older than his children. Her voice too, was not quite right, a cheap mockery of the woman he loved.

“No, you’re not her. This isn’t real. I demand that you tell me who you are at once!” 

Robert drew himself up to his full height, towering over her. This seemed to have no effect on her, and Robert again wished for his youthful physique back, along with the real respect he had once commanded.

“True, in a way. The girl you remember was never real though Robert. Or have you forgotten how I ignored you, and begged my father to break the engagement. Have you forgotten all that?”

Robert paled. No one would dare talk to him like that anymore. Somehow, this was Lyanna Stark.

“Lya, I . . . how is this possible. Am I dreaming?”

The apparition, or vision, or whatever she was cackled nastily.

“I suppose you could call me a harbinger of your doom, Robert of the House Baratheon. That, and a reminder of the truth you can’t even admit to yourself.”

Robert felt panic start to build within in him. Was he in danger? Should he try to run? Even if he tried, his legs felt stuck to the floor and his mind was racing too much to move.

“A truth? My doom? I don’t understand, Lya.”

“Don’t you? It’s really very simple. I never loved you, and you never knew me, that is what you must understand. And quickly, your time in this world is swiftly running out.”

Robert found himself tongue-tied. He knew that this was probably some strange dream, but he couldn’t deny the dread he felt at that moment. It seemed that his Lyanna, whoever or whatever she was, was prophesising his future. And though he’d never put much stock in such things before, Robert felt some truth to her words.

“How could you not have loved me Lya? We were engaged; I started this whole damn war for you. I have to be king because of you, marry that bitch, have awful children.”

Robert trailed off. Somehow he felt like a young boy again, like he had before the war. But all his bravado and charm was gone and only the uncertainty and fear was left. If Lyanna had never loved him, what meaning did any of his life have? What was the point?

Lyanna’s features seemed to change, to become a little closer to the truth. Robert realised with a sinking feeling that he wasn’t really sure if that was nearer the truth. Had her nose been like that, or had it been longer. How had she worn her hair? Good gods, did he remember her at all? 

He took a step forward, trying desperately to reach out and touch her. Lyanna faded, moving away from him, always just out of reach. He called out.

“You never loved me.”

It wasn’t a question. Lyanna turned and smiled. The smile he remembered perfectly, lighting up her whole face. She was truly radiant, even now when she smiled, and Robert couldn’t help feel that he had loved her in some way, even if what she said was true.

“You shouldn’t worry Robert, you didn’t really love me either. Not the real me at least.”

With that she faded into the darkness, leaving the king of the seven kingdoms alone with his thoughts and regrets. Slowly he cleared his head and climbed back up into the castle. Later he would blame the whole experience on too much wine and too little sleep, but secretly he would know that wasn’t true.


End file.
